


Deserved

by UnhelpfulPanda



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abusive Bro, Asshole Bro, Dream Bubbles, M/M, POV John Egbert, Panic Attacks, Post-Sburb, Sappy Ending, a peter pan reference (kind of??), canon abusive bro, im terrible at tagging eat my shorts, mentioned nightmares, probably not an accurate portrayal of post-sburb, sappy romantic shit, which i guess is also canon bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnhelpfulPanda/pseuds/UnhelpfulPanda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Sburb, everyone was a little fucked up, and bringing the dreambubbles along to the new universe was probably not the best idea, as John learns when he walks in on Dave having a not so great confrontation with his dead Bro (but really, any confrontation with Bro was bound to go terribly). This interaction puts John in Protector Mode™, but it affects Dave in a whole other way, and its not a very good way. John takes this time to tell Dave what he deserves in life.</p><p>(based on <a href="http://pepsicola-headcanons.tumblr.com/post/146074055655"> this headcanon</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deserved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pepsicola-headcanons (on tumblr)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=pepsicola-headcanons+%28on+tumblr%29).



> What originally started as a setting to write Dave having a panic attack and tracing John's godtier symbol like in [ this post](http://pepsicola-headcanons.tumblr.com/post/146074055655)
> 
> turned into this /gestures vaguely
> 
> I'm not sure what /this/ even is except romantic sappy cute shit so just read it ok??

            You all knew you’d be fucked up in the aftermath of Sburb. You, for example, had nightmares that were twice as bad as they were before the game; cackling imps and sticky oil that clung to your skin and the towering figure of Lord English himself, roaring and incinerating your friends as they screamed for you to save them. It’s no wonder you woke up in a cold sweat some nights, but you had support.

            Nobody liked to broadcast what their own issues were, but Jane would occasionally confide in you about dreams in which the Batterwitch is once again in control of her body, forcing her to hurt her friends and this time, no one can stop her. Each of you had your own confidant to tell everything to.

            The continued access to the dreambubbles had surprised everyone except the ones responsible: Roxy and Jade. They told you that they weren’t willing to let all the dead trolls just cease to exist, which you understand to be a sore subject for both of them. You were okay with it, you suppose. Sometimes when you weren’t stuck in a nightmare you would wander in and visit. And sometimes you would run into your current friends as you explored.

            The dream bubbles were not supposed to be scary, but when you wandered into the memory of a building’s roof with the summer sun beating down on it, your stomach twisted in an unpleasant way. Mostly because you recognized the two people already occupying the roof.

            “You ruined my life!” Dave shouted. “You thought you were helping me but you weren’t, Bro, you were just making it harder for me!”

            “ _I_ ruined your life?” Bro inquired calmly. “If you hadn’t been so weak, you would have benefited from my training,” he added with an uninterested shrug.

            You approached Dave, ready to step in. He didn’t need to face his Bro; he had gotten past his fears with Dirk’s help. He didn’t _need_ to have this conversation, so you were ready to end it, but Dave continued without realizing you were there.

            “Training??” Dave laughed dryly, though there was no humor in the sound. “You weren’t training me and you know it, Bro. You were terrorizing me to make yourself seem tough. Newsflash! Scaring a little kid isn’t tough, it’s pathetic,” he sneered.

            Bro flashstepped right up in Dave’s face, his lip curled angrily. Evidently he hadn’t noticed you, either. “You watch your mouth, brat,” he growled.

            “I don’t have to do anything you tell me to anymore, Bro. You don’t scare me,” Dave retorted, though you could hear the tremor in his voice. And if you could hear it, then so could Bro.

            Bro raised his hand and backhanded the absolute hell out of the blonde. Dave hit the ground with the force, and you used your windy powers to blow Bro back as he tried to approach your best friend.

            “That’s _enough_ , Strider!” You shouted at the older man as you knelt by Dave’s side. You could hear Dave hyperventilating; you had seen his panic attacks before but every time it scared you as if it was the first time all over again. “Breathe, Dave, it’s okay,” You murmured as you brought Dave closer to you. You brought his hands to your chest and he fisted the soft blue fabric of your god tier pajamas.

            “Relying on someone to save you _again_ , lil man? Who did you say was pathetic again?” Bro jeered. Dave’s breathing grew ragged and you shushed him again.

            “It’s okay, Dave, it’s okay. Just breathe. I’m here for you, I won’t let him get near you again, okay, so don’t listen to him. I’ll handle this,” You whispered, calling upon the Wind to blow around his head until the noise drowned out any voices for him.

            “How fucking dare you,” You hissed at the older Strider. “You have no idea what Dave alone has been through. You can’t even fathom how many times he’s sacrificed himself to save us all. We wouldn’t have gotten anywhere in the game without his strength, without his courage and bravery. And yet you stand here like you’re better than him?” You demanded.

            “I _am_ better than him. It’s not an opinion, it’s a fact,” Bro stated calmly.

            “Here’s a fact for you, Strider: **you are _dead_** ,” you snapped. Bro’s shades lowered so you could see the blank white of his eyes, as if proving your point. “You died once, and you _stayed_ dead. Dave died millions upon millions of times and he is still here with me,” you explained, the amended, “with _us_.”

            “What’s your point?” Bro questioned, crossing his arms defensively.

            “My point is that if you ever approach Dave in these dreambubbles again-” your windy powers grew out of control, whipping your clothes every which way and roaring in your ears until you were sure Bro could barely hear you “-I will make you wish you were double dead.”

            The memory and Bro Strider both faded away into the hazy multicolored mess of a blank dreambubble. You couldn’t be sure that Bro himself wasn’t apart of the memory, but you had taken care of things one way or another.

            You finally brought your attention back to the red eyed god of time in your arms, hyper focused on the gentle curves of your godtier symbol. He traced the symbol with his fingers and eyes obsessively, over and over again.

            “Dave? Are you alright?” You asked, concerned at the sort of trance he was in. His finger slowed in its tracing and he slowly tilted his head until he was looking up at you. “Dave?” You asked again. “Dave, talk to me.”

            “Come find me,” is all he replied, and then you jolted awake in bed.

* * *

 

            You didn’t even bother with shoes, just threw off the covers and pushed off the ground into the air. Flying was faster, after all. You flew as fast as the Wind could take you to the Strider residence, landing on the windowsill of Dave’s open window like some kind of Peter Pan bullshit, minus the green tights and the bitchy fairy.

            “Dave? You whispered into the dark, glancing around for some sign of the blonde who had previously shared your dreams. You willed the air around you to still momentarily, listening intently.

            The fast, ragged breathing reached your ears as soon as the sound of the wind died down. You floated over to Dave’s closet, where you knew his makeshift darkroom was. “Dave?” you called again as you opened the closet slowly. You feared, in the back of your mind, that this was another nightmare of yours, that the trembling figure before you would lift his head from where it was tucked against his knees and have the blank white eyes of a dead friend…

            But no, it was Dave, _your_ Dave, alive and still panicking. You brought him towards you, mimicking the position you found yourself in while in the dreambubble. Dave did not protest the tender embrace, in fact almost eagerly accepted it, and you ran your fingers through the soft blonde locks as he went back to tracing your godtier symbol with his finger.

            It wasn’t like him to stay so silent. Even as his breathing evened out, he continued to stay quiet. Usually you had a hard time getting Dave to _stop_ talking. This was…wrong. This was not how your Dave behaved, not when he was okay. It’s all Bro’s fault.

            “Oh, Dave…” you sighed shakily. “This shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have had to go through this…”

            “I could have walked away when I recognized the memory location,” he finally mumbled, still tracing the slight curves of the Breath symbol.

            “That’s not what I meant. You shouldn’t have had to grow up like that. You should have told me. I should have realized. I should have come to save you and reversed all the damage he had done to you before it got as far as it did,” you explained.

            The finger that had been just barely touching your chest paused. “You’re…you’re blaming yourself?” Dave asked with confusion clear in his voice.

            “Yes! No! …I don’t know, I just know you don’t deserve this,” you mumbled. Dave replaced his hands on your chest with his head, burying his face into the soft fabric of your godtier shirt.

            “What _do_ I deserve, then?” he inquired dryly, his voice muffled.

            “Everything! You deserve to have memories of your childhood that don’t scare you shitless. You deserve rainbows and sunshine and gallons of apple juice and cuddles and kisses. You deserve the chance to smile and laugh and enjoy your life. You deserve to be _happy_ , Dave,” you ranted.

            “…Why?” he finally replied, voice choked as if he’s holding back tears. “Why do I deserve any of that?”

            “Because you’re my Dave and I love you!” you blurted out, and the darkroom became deathly silent, the only sound being the Wind swirling around you and your own blood rushing in your ears.

            Dave finally mumbled something into your chest, something you couldn’t understand with his face mashed against you. “What was that?” you asked, and he lifted his head to look at you.

            Ruby red eyes stole your aspect from you like a thief in the night, and you stared down at him with rapt attention as he ordered you, “Say it again if what you said is true.”

            The Wind began to roar as you struggled to find your voice. Dave’s hair blew back and yet still he stared at you, eyes piercing your very heart as he waited for the words that had failed you.

            The next best thing was to cup his face and kiss him, pouring everything into that desperate touch of your lips to his; your hopes and dreams and wishes for him to find happiness, for him to have everything he’s ever wanted. All he has to do is whisper it in your ear and you’ll give him _anything_ , just to have him achieve the happiness his guardian had robbed from his youth.

            Dave laughed against your mouth, and even when it was directed at you it was a beautiful sound. You pulled back and watched with alarm as he smiled up at you with tears streaming down his face.

            “What did I do?” you questioned, already beginning to panic.

            “You’ve told me what I’ve always wanted to hear!” he replied, and his voice overflowed with joy.

            “What? What did I say?” you inquired, confusion clear in your voice. Dave threw himself into your arms, and you couldn’t help but hold him close.

            “I love you!” he laughed in delight. “I love you, John Egbert!” And you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in you, too. You squeezed him tight and felt that you had finally, _finally_ , given him the happiness he deserved. It was only a lucky bonus that it included your happiness with it.


End file.
